Lewis and Clark
by Muffinzelda
Summary: In this AU, iconic Oxford dodo Robbie Lewis has let Laura Hobson slip away to New Zealand alone. Drama ensues, and Robbie's going to need the help of the only friends he has- his colleagues- if he has any hope of seeing Laura again.
1. Misplaced Anger

Three months after Laura Hobson had left for New Zealand alone, her wake continued to rock the lives of the officers of Oxfordshire CID. Her relationship with Robbie Lewis had provided a certain structure for both James Hathaway and Lizzie Maddox, and after her departure they all found themselves missing the plucky pathologist.

Hathaway had made peace with his father more or less, but he would never be able to completely forgive his father for not being a better husband to his mum. Hathaway knew that Lewis and Hobson's split was none of his concern, yet he transferred his anger for his father onto Lewis. After all, there was no sense in being mad at his senile and debilitated dad whereas Lewis had made the conscious decision to let Laura Hobson go.

Lizzie Maddox, for her part, was still reeling from her husband Tony's decision to sign up for another year of work in Canada. They were young(ish) and needed the money; but she was all too aware that Lewis' choosing the job over Hobson was not for reasons of financial stability. It irked her that Lewis chose not to enjoy his retirement with Hobson. Thus, Hathaway and Maddox formed a sort of alliance- against Lewis.

As for Lewis himself, he'd chosen the job over the second love of his life, and he was determined to make a go of it. _No regrets,_ he told himself stoically whenever he found himself getting nostalgic for Laura's warmth or a pint with Hathaway. His desk had been moved out of Hathaway and Maddox' office and into the common area; he found himself paired up more often than not with Detective Constable Alex Grey. Grey hung on Lewis' every word and in truth, they made a good pair gophering around for Moody. Secretly, Inspector Hathaway was jealous every time he saw the affable DC coming into the building with two coffees. Lewis loved the attention from Gray and was just as eager to show off to Hathaway that someone found him useful in his old age.

* * *

One evening, however, Lewis came into Hathaway's office and cleared his throat nervously. "Don't suppose you could get away for a pint, James?"

"It wouldn't be fair of me to leave Lizzie with all this paperwork."

"We're swamped, sir." She confirmed.

"It's about a case, actually. I need to pick your brain." Lewis tried again.

"Don't you have DC Grey for that?"

"If I wanted Grey, I wouldn't be standing here, now would I?"

"All right." Hathaway relented. "What are we looking at?"

Lewis took a deep breath. "Missing person. An Oxford woman went to do humanitarian work for a few months at a camp for internally displaced persons in Burma—"

"Myanmar," Hathaway cut him off.

"The camp she works at is on the Thai-Burmese border," Lewis continued with a wary glare at Hathaway, as if to say 'let's see you make an adjective out of Myanmar, cleverclogs.' He pursued his line of thought. "Communications are rubbish over there, but she promised to check in once a week. She'd been consistent for several weeks but now there's been no word from her. The husband here in Oxford is worried."

"Could just be spotty communications, as you say. I'm not sure that this is our jurisdiction anyway."

"I know, but I've got to do something. I tried getting in touch with the camp, but I didn't have much success. Any chance you have any expert professors of Asian languages in your rolodex?" Lewis knew that Hathaway was better at cajoling professors to help out as experts on their cases. Lewis never was good at flattering their egos in the same way that Hathaway was.

"Mmm, perhaps, if I had a rolodex. There's this thing called a computer..."

"Is anything useful going to come out of your gob?" Lewis asked.

Hathaway gave a smug grin. "What else can you tell me about our missing person?"

Lewis opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. With a pained expression, took a letter out of the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to Maddox rather than Hathaway.

 _My dearest Robbie,_

 _Alice is getting settled nicely with the baby, and my sister and brother-in-law have made the trip down as well. Alice is grateful that they've come, and they've left their moral objections back in Oxfordshire. With everyone getting along right nicely, it's time for me to move along to the trip around southeast Asia that we'd planned. Only I've found that the idea of lying on beaches and exploring the temples of Thailand doesn't seem to interest me without you. I met someone- a young woman, don't worry- who was in Alice's antenatal group. She's a doctor, so we hit it off right away. When she fell pregnant, she was working abroad in a refugee camp in Thailand, mostly serving displaced people of Burmese ethnic groups. She's given up that life now, but she's put ideas in my head. So I'm taking a page from your book, Robbie, and I'm going back to work. I want to re-connect with why I loved with medicine to begin with. There are people in need of a doctor, and I've spent far too long with corpses. I've signed on for a three month stint, so I'll still be home for Christmas as planned. I'll be in touch as often as I can, but I can't promise how often that will be. Lastly, I decided to write this letter because I didn't want you to argue with me over the phone. I know you, Robbie, but you know me as well. Once I've made up my mind, there's no turning back._

 _All my love,_

 _Laura_

Maddox unfolded the letter, immersed herself in its words, and then looked back up at Lewis. He nodded. Maddox turned to Hathaway.

"It's Dr. Hobson," she peeped.

"Her _husband_ is worried?" Hathaway enquired warily, for he knew that however Lewis viewed things he and Hobson were not legally married.

"Or whatever it is I am." Lewis admitted.

"The louse who let her go to the other side of the Earth alone?" Hathaway registered his contempt.

"Not helpful, sir." Maddox said, spying Lewis' crestfallen look.

Hathaway made a look of concession to Maddox, though not to Lewis. "I'll make some calls." Hathaway said, waving Lewis away.

* * *

Author Notes: I had wanted to write a story of this title for a long time about Robbie and James somehow investigating a crime in the American northwest, but that story never came to fruition. The New Zealand adventure led to a reprise of the theme of exploration. Clark will make sense in the next chapter, I promise. I had also scribbled a tongue-in-cheek spoof after reading the series 8 press pack in which Laura was so mad at Robbie for going back to work that she signed up as a volunteer pathologist with Médecins Sans Frontières tackling Ebola in West Africa. So this present story is the fusion of a few things I had cooking in other pots, plus a lot of melodramatic mush, because… it's fanfic. I don't really do 'head cannon,' but this story will also refer to Laura's niece Alice and Laura's sister and brother-in-law Maggie and Fletcher Thompkins, who appeared in my embellishment of series 9, _A Series of Moments._ This AU was going to be another chapter at the end of _Moments_ , but as it took shape I realised that it was several chapters long itself and deserved its own publication. There will be daily updates!


	2. Lewis and Clark

Maddox offered to drive Lewis home while Hathaway was busy doing what he could to track Hobson. Lewis protested that he was fine on his own but Maddox insisted. Back at the home that Lewis shared with the missing pathologist, Maddox had a look through the refrigerator. Lewis thought that Maddox was more than a bit like his Lyn as she tut-tutted that the fridge was very nearly bare.

Lewis shook his head hopelessly. "Let's just order a pizza, pet."

"Dr. Hobson wouldn't approve." Maddox said. Lewis knew that once again, Maddox was right.

* * *

Pasta was boiling when Hathaway arrived. Hathaway noticed that Lewis' spirits seemed to perk up as Maddox was doing something with butter and dried herbs on the stove top. "Any news, James?" Lewis asked.

"I do have a friend who works for the Catholic Foreign Mission; she knows people at Doctors Without Borders. She made some inquiries on my behalf."

"And?"

"Let's sit down, Robbie." Lewis complied. "My friend was able to get in touch with the director of the camp that Laura was working at. Apparently Laura fell ill and had to be airlifted home. That all she knows."

"Bloody hell," was all Lewis could manage.

"Home?" Maddox asked. "Is she…?"

"Before you ask, there is no trace of Laura in any of the hospitals here. It's unlikely that they would have flown her back to England from Thailand anyway. In other words, I have no idea where she is now."

"I knew that something had happened… damn it all to Hell! What was I thinking?"

"We'll find her, sir." Maddox tried to stay positive.

Hathaway pursued his line of inquiry. "Robbie, I know this seems overly obvious, but did you make contact with her family? Ask if they've had any word?"

Lewis looked away in shame. He could feel Hathaway's seething eyes on him even with his gaze averted.

"What?" Hathaway snarled. "You sent me on a wild goose chase for information when you haven't even gone to the most obvious source?!"

"What am I supposed to say? 'Hi, this is Robbie the sodding fool. Is Laura still alive?' I can't… I just can't."

"Robert Lewis, if you loved her at all…"

"Enough!" roared Lewis. His eruption startled Hathaway into silence.

"Give us the number; I'll ring for you." Maddox said diplomatically. Lewis went over to the bureau and extracted an address book from a drawer. He found the phone number for Laura's niece Alice, written in Laura's careful hand. He handed the book to Maddox.

"Laura's sister, Margaret Thompkins- Maggie- is staying with her daughter Alice. Alice is the one who just had the baby. Maggie would know what's happened, in any case." Lewis explained to Maddox.

Maddox went to the phone, smiling to herself that Lewis and Hobson were old enough that they still had a land line phone connected to the wall. She dialed the number and asked to speak to Mrs. Thompkins.

As her interlocutor went to find Hobson's sister, Maddox took Lewis by the hand. With her other hand, she held the phone to Lewis's ear. "I said I'd dial, but I never said I'd talk."

"Hello?" came a shrill voice through the receiver.

Lewis sighed and took the phone from Maddox. "Hello, Maggie. It's… it's Robbie Lewis."

Hathaway and Maddox exchanged a troubled glance as they could hear the wrath of a Hobson woman squawking on the other end of the line.

Each time Lewis tried to apologise or ask a question he had trouble getting a word in edgewise. Finally he said decisively, "I understand that, Maggie. I'm sorry. Please tell her to hang on and that I'm on my way." He hung up the phone.

"Well?" Hathaway and Maddox interrogated Lewis with somewhat less finesse than was their usual.

"Laura's in hospital in Auckland." Lewis paused before elaborating. "Typhoid fever. She's still alive, but not out of the woods yet. I've got to go to her."

"I'm coming with you." Maddox spoke up. "I've got leave time scheduled. You shouldn't go alone."

"But you are going to Canada to see Tony," Hathaway reminded her as he felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy not unlike the one he felt when he saw DC Gray bring Lewis coffee.

Maddox shook her head and blinked back her tears. "Not anymore. And I need to get out of Oxford for a while. All these girls nights out are wreaking havoc on my liver."

"But Lizzie, I know how much you love Tony. Surely you can work it out; go see him." Lewis said.

"He's met someone else." Maddox whispered bitterly.

"Sod him, then." Lewis put his hand on Maddox's shoulder. "We're going to New Zealand," he agreed.

Hathaway felt the need to say something as he'd come to care for his sergeant- but he didn't know how to say it without being an awkward sod.

"I'm sorry, Maddox, about… Canada."

"It's Clark, sir, now that you know. I plan to go back to my maiden name."

"Thank you, then, Sergeant Clark, for agreeing to look after Lewis."

"You're welcome, sir."

"I really ought to go with you both."

"But your father is ill, James. This is where you need to be." Lewis reminded him.

Hathaway nodded in acceptance. He then insisted that he would place a phone call to Chief Superintendent Moody then start researching flights while Clark finished dinner and Lewis set the table.

* * *

Moody rang Hathaway back as the three were eating their way through a mix of pasta and frozen vegetables tossed with butter.

Hathaway gave the others a report after hanging up with Moody. "Well, Moody enjoys meddling and sticking his fingers into many pots. I think it makes him feel important to wield influence."

"Heh, I never would have guessed. Any joy?"

"Moody got you two on the next flight out of Heathrow, with one stop in Bangkok."

"I'd better get packing," Clark said.

"Wait, a toast before you go," interjected Hathaway. The three raised their wine glasses. (The fridge may have been empty, but Laura's wine rack was still amply stocked as a solitary Lewis tended towards beer.) "To Laura's health and to the overseas adventures of Lewis and Clark. Safe travels, and may you return with our dear Laura."


	3. Life is but a dream

An eternity of travel later, Lewis was finally reunited with Hobson. He entered her room in silent haste and hovered over her to assess her condition. She lay inert with her eyes half open, awake yet unresponsive to Lewis' presence.

"It's compelling evidence," she asserted suddenly.

"What is, love?"

"There's no bouncy castle at Bleinheim. Daft sod."

"She comes and goes from the delirium, Robbie." Lewis hadn't noticed the man sitting in the corner of the room.

"Fletch?" Lewis was surprised to see Hobson's brother-in-law. He made the necessary introductions. "Fletcher Thompkins. Lizzie Clark."

"I come to sit with her a few hours each day. Maggie's been by a few times, but she is so wrapped up in our new grandbaby and she fears picking up germs in hospital. So she says anyway; I think it upsets her to sit here and not be able to do anything. Hobson women always want to be on the go."

"Don't I know it," Lewis said. "I'm grateful that you've been here for Laura, Fletch."

"I suppose it's part of my job, praying for the sick. I'm the vicar of Saint Basil's, in Bampton, you see, " Reverend Thompkins explained to Sergeant Clark.

"It's good that you've come, Robbie. I hope that you two will be reconciled."

"How is she?"

"The fever has gone down though the delirium persists. She's been responding well to the antibiotics, but there are still traces of the bacteria in her system. Her doctors fear she risks internal bleeding that could still develop. Nasty bug, typhoid. You ought to speak to her doctors for the full story."

"I will, in just a moment" Lewis sat for a few minutes rubbing Hobson' hand. Hobson seemed miles away with nothing more to say, so Lewis decided to make contact with her doctors. He was going to be a presence henceforth.

While Lewis was away, Hobson began to moan. Lizzie Clark went to her side.

"Dr. Hobson? It's Lizzie. Sergeant Maddox, only it's Clark now, but never mind that."

"Who's your governor?" Hobson grumbled as if she resented the intrusion.

"Inspector Hathaway. But I'm here with Lewis, of course."

"Lewis…" Hobson moaned.

Rev. Thompkins had gone to retrieve Lewis from to the hallway when Hobson began to speak again. Lewis entered in a right state. "Laura? Talk to me…"

Hobson mustered her strength to respond, but it was clear that her speech was laboured. "I'm afraid I can't be much help on your case, Sergeant. I think I've taken a nasty turn. I've been unwell, you see…"

"I'm sorry, love." He squeezed her hand, which seemed to upset her.

"Run along, Lewis." Hobson's voice was raspy.

"I'm not going anywhere, Laura. I'm staying right here."

"Don't keep Morse waiting. He'll be cross." She tried to sound authoritative but her exhaustion was evident.

"He's all right. I made Inspector about 15 years ago."

"Please go, Lewis."

"All right, Robbie; come on with me now. Let's let Laura rest. We'll find her doctors and then get a coffee in the canteen." And with that, Reverend Thompkins removed a dejected Lewis from the room.

Clark knew that it was pointless to reason with Hobson if she was delirious, but she had to say something.

"Lewis has come a long way to see you. He's very worried."

Hobson sighed. "Strange dreams but I'm awake; I can't explain. They say I'm incoherent. Am I making sense?"

"You seem all right to me."

"I dreamt something. Something that Sergeant Lewis' wife wouldn't appreciate. But it seemed so real. And we had a cat. it's preposterous; I hate cats."

"But you quite like Monty."

"Monty." She sighed. "That was a nice dream. Lewis and I…" And her eyes rolled back into her head as she went back to sleep.

Clark went to find Lewis in the canteen after she was sure that Hobson was asleep. "Sir, I just had a little chat with Hobson. I think she's more lucid than we thought- just confused. She thinks that your life together is a vivid hallucination. She sent you away because she is afraid of upsetting your wife."

Lewis steadied his hands on his teacup. _Laura was always very protective of Val's memory._

* * *

Lewis came back into Hobson's room as she slept. She stirred slightly and he approached her once more.

"Laura?"

"Lewis."

"Please, Laura, it's Robbie."

"What are you doing here?" She asked warily.

"Don't worry about that just now. We can talk more when you've got your memory back."

"There's nothing wrong with my memory! It's my perception of reality…"

Lewis grinned to see a flicker of the feisty woman he loved.

"I love you, Laura Hobson. And I have come half-way around the world to tell you, so you'd best believe it."

She paused to consider this declaration. Finally she asked, "Is there a canoe in my garden?"

"Yes, love," he confirmed the seemingly incongruous detail of her memory.

"So, you and I?" She almost seemed to smile.

"Yeah. I hope you're still OK with that."

"Tell me more." she murmured.

How to tell her of the depth of their bond in so few words? Always one to obfuscate his feelings, Lewis prattled on about the canoe. "You've keep your potted herbs growing in the canoe most of the time now. But I take them out when I want to go fishing. We took the canoe to the Lake District two months ago for a weekend. We only caught a tiny fish but you insisted on cleaning it and deboning it with your scalpel so we could have it for dinner."

"Not about the canoe. Us."

"I'm not good with the words, pet." He beheld her lying there and found the courage to revisit the past. "It was a long time coming- more than ten years after Val died. For as long as it took me to come to terms with it, I do love you all the more. And there's me family too. Sure Ken and Lyn like to tease their old man about his young fit blonde girlfriend, but deep down they're glad you've joined our family. And that's not to mention wee Jack…"

"Ah, Jack." Hobson seemed content at the memory. Having reached a peaceful understanding, the two surrendered to a loving silence.

Eventually she spoke to him again. "Take me home, Robbie. It's getting late."

"Soon, love. I promise. For now, just try to rest."


	4. Dear Sir

The next day was a somber one at the hospital. Sergeant Clark was unsure of how to sign her delicately worded message to Inspector Hathaway back home. She decided to err on the side of formality.

 _Dear sir,_

 _I'm sorry to have to tell you that Laura has taken a turn for the worse. She started bleeding internally as the bacteria have perforated her colon. She is currently in surgery to repair the damage. If it's any comfort at all, she and Lewis were reconciled before she crashed. I will be sure to let you know as soon as I have news to share._

 _Sgt Clark_

Reverend Thompkins approached Lewis and Clark with coffee as Clark hit 'send.' "Any news?" He asked.

"None," spoke Lewis tersely. He looked at Laura's brother in law with a blank expression before accepting the coffee.

"Come with me to the chapel, Robbie."

"I'm afraid I'm not the praying kind, Fletch."

"You don't have to pray; there are marvelous stained glass windows. You need a change of scenery."

* * *

Lewis was sat in the chapel admiring the stained glass windows at sunset while Rev Thompkins prayed. Lewis saw Clark from the corner of his eye. She was radiant with the light of the windows surrounding her in different colors. But something was amiss; Lewis noticed that she was crying.

"Come on now, Clark," he whispered. "You're supposed to be the strong one here." She looked up and considered the haggard man with a four-day beard who sat before her. She wondered how he was keeping himself together as well as he was.

"I'm sorry, sir, it's just… it's beautiful, what you have with Dr. Hobson, and I know that your love will see her though." She teared up again as Lewis put her hand on his shoulder. "I miss Tony and what we had, and wonder if I'll ever have that again."

Lewis sought to comfort Clark. "But Tony loves you like that too. I saw it with me own eyes when Pamela Carson had attacked you at the pumping station. Tony sat by your side, held your hand, and kept talking to you. You only don't know it because you were unconscious."

"Really?"

"Aye. I don't know what happened to Tony in Canada, but I am sure that he will come to his senses. People don't change that much." Lewis shuddered as he remembered that he was so very wrong when he had given that same advice to Louise Cornish about her husband Nick. He took a deep breath, scratched his ear, and continued.

"But even if Tony doesn't come around, you'll land on your feet, kidda. Believe me. I never thought I could love again after me wife died. But Laura helped me make a new start and shared a new life with me more wonderful than I ever could have imagined."

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." Reverend Thompkins interjected. "Sorry for eavesdropping." He handed Clark a tissue.

Lewis, sitting in the pew of the chapel, closed his eyes upon hearing the Bible verse. He failed to open his eyes; soon his head drooped and he emitted a slight snore.

Sergeant Clark and Reverend Thompkins looked at each other and shrugged. An hour or so later, a group was coming in to the chapel to worship, so Clark gently tapped Lewis' shoulder. "Sir, wake up. It's time to go."

Lewis opened his eyes.

"Or you could stay for the worship service," added Reverend Thompkins hopefully.

Lewis gave the reverend a skeptical look in response.

As they walked back to the waiting area, Lewis spoke as if he had had some sort of epiphany, "You know, when Val died, I kept thinking that it should be me. I would have given anything to change places with her so that she could be with our kids again. But Laura? She actually did it- changed places with me. I suppose I had been cheating death, running around in a bullet proof vest at my age- not to mention being blown up by that mad Capstone bloke. Laura tried to warn me but I didn't listen. She had to go find a more dangerous line of work herself in order to make me realize how she felt, how much she loves me, and how much I love her in return." He sighed. "Even if the worst happens, at least I got to talk to her one last time. That's more than I had with Val."

Rev. Thompkins and Sgt. Clark nodded and they both put their hands on Lewis' shoulders. The three plodded back to the waiting area in silence.

* * *

A few hours later, Clark sat down again to write to Hathaway despite the fact that he hadn't responded to her earlier message. She imagined that he was drunk and brooding or on a religious retreat. She sincerely hoped it was the latter.

 _Dear sir,_

 _Laura survived the surgery and is in serious but stable condition. Her doctor is cautiously optimistic. She is not able to have visitors yet, so Laura's brother-in-law has finally convinced Lewis to come home to eat, shower, and rest. Hopefully it will do him good and we'll go to see Laura in the morning. I'll be in touch._

 _Sgt Clark_


	5. A Remorseful Day

Margaret Thompkins née Hobson may have raked Robbie Lewis over the coals on her sister's behalf, but at least he was rested, fed, and clean when he went back to the hospital to see Laura Hobson. Though Lewis was still sporting a shabby beard, Clark noticed that it was a vast improvement. She decided to check her emails while Lewis and Hobson shared some time together. She found but three words in a message from Hathaway: good result, Sergeant. _Hathaway's communicative skills are no better than Lewis'_ , she thought to herself.

* * *

Lewis was anxious to see Hobson again after her surgery. "Laura, it's Robbie. I'm here."

She wiggled a little to see him more clearly then groaned in agony.

"Easy, pet. You've been through a lot."

"Gun shot wound to the abdomen, if I had to make an educated guess."

"Not too far off. Surgery for a perforated intestine."

"Did I survive?"

"Of course you did. What makes you say that?"

"I've been talking to ghosts, Robbie."

"Yours or mine?" Lewis asked.

She declined comment. Instead she asked him, "How do I know you're not here for my postmortem?"

"Easy. This beard's not regulation. So I must be a private citizen." He moved in to give her a kiss on the forehead.

She was able to focus on his face as he lifted his head. "You look like hell, Robbie."

"My face is misleading. You make me a very happy man."

"A very old man. Does that mean I'm old too?" she wondered in a hushed tone.

Lewis loved her sass. "You're as young as the day I met you, pet." He answered back.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Oxford, another man was hoping to have the same success Lewis had in reconciling with his wife.

Tony Maddox put his key in the door to the flat he had shared with his wife. At first, he didn't worry that she wasn't home despite the late hour. Coppers work strange hours, after all. After a day, however, it dawned on him that Lizzie wasn't coming back- nor had she been there for some time.

The next morning, he awoke to hear a key in the lock. He rushed out of bed and gave the neighbour Bex quite a fright as she was entering.

"Sorry, so sorry to scare you. Who are you?" He asked, still in his pajamas.

"Who am I? Who are you? And what are you doing in Lizzie's flat?" Bex responded. The barmaid from the Blue Rondo didn't take any guff.

"I'm Lizzie's husband. Tony Maddox. And you are…?"

"I'm Bex; I live in the flat across the hall. Aren't you supposed to be in Canada shagging an Eskimo?"

Tony sighed. "I suppose I deserved that. Mid-life crisis. I've come home to beg Lizzie's forgiveness. Do you know where she is?"

"You're too late, I'm afraid. Lizzie's run off to New Zealand with another copper. She asked me to come over and water the plants every other day. Didn't say when she'd be back."

Tony Maddox was devastated to learn the true cost of his own infidelity.

* * *

Dr. Hobson's recovery proved to be a lengthy one but she made steady progress in the days that followed. As much as Lewis wanted Hobson to recover, he dreaded the day that they would need to confront the circumstances that had separated them.

There was a change in her one day when Lewis arrived at her bed side. She was sitting up and certainly had her wits about her. "I think we should have a serious talk, Robbie." He nodded with trepidation as he understood perfectly what she meant.

"I realise that I was quite angry with you when I left Oxford alone. I still love you and appreciate that you have come all this way, but there is a part of me that can't reconcile that with what happened. You let me share your life and your family, but you really don't want to be part of mine."

"But I do, love. It turns out there was a live dodo in Oxford after all, not just that decrepit one at the Ashmolean" he said referring to the romper that he had sent to her niece's baby. "Can I just say that I'm sorry and you are right about everything?" Lewis tried to dodge the issue with a blanket apology.

"You hurt me, Robbie, but it turns out you weren't wrong about everything. You were right about one thing: I need to keep working. Just not as a forensics pathologist. I want to volunteer as a doctor for displaced migrants arriving in the UK. That might mean spending more time in London. Or Dover, people escaping from the jungle in Calais even."

Lewis was giving her his inscrutable look that he had perfected over many years interviewing suspects. She knew him well enough to know that he was holding something back, but it was impossible to tell what it was. Hobson decided to press a little further.

"Undocumented migrants. That wouldn't be a problem for you, would it?"

Lewis gave Hobson a noncommittal shrug, as he tried to stay out of the ethical debates of policing whenever possible. She wanted to hear him say it though.

"Once a copper, always a copper?" She prompted him.

Finally he spoke. "Doesn't matter. We help the people who need help, Laura."

"Then why do I have the feeling that you're upset about something?"

"Just promise me that you won't put yourself in harm's way. The same goes for meself- no more running around in bullet-proof vests. If Moody needs me, I'll be behind a desk. It's time for us to enjoy our retirement."

"It's a promise. I love you, Robbie."

"And I you, bonny lass."


	6. The Clark Conundrum

Inspector Hathaway was sitting in the car park outside his father's care home gathering his thoughts. He pondered his existential crisis: if your father doesn't know who you are, do you really exist? In loco parentis, did he need a relationship with his sister Nell to validate his personhood? He looked at his phone, hoping for a distraction. Word from Clark about Laura Hobson, perhaps? She'd been good at keeping him informed even though he'd been rubbish at responding. The fights with Nell had taken their toll on his ability his interpersonal skills. As he contemplated the unknown, a familiar car drove by on the main road. He snapped back from his reverie.

 _Could it be?_ He thought to himself. Hathaway knew the silver vehicle to be Sargent Clark's car, but the shape of the driver was decidedly taller. He secured a blue light to his dash as pulled out onto the road to catch up the silver car.

Tony Maddox pulled over as he saw the flashing light behind him. He knew that he hadn't been speeding so he was apprehensive as to why he had been stopped.

Hathaway never quite knew what to say in these situations, so he spoke bluntly. "If you care for Lizzie at all, you'll meet me at the Trout at 6PM." He feared that he came off as aloof and possibly a bit arrogant, so he added "the first round is on me." With that, Hathaway turned on his heels and walked off leaving Tony Maddox speechless behind the wheel of his car.

* * *

Sergeant Clark was nearing the end of her stay in New Zealand. She went by the hospital to say goodbye to Dr. Hobson. "I've set you and Lewis up with a little furnished bungalow for when you get out of here. Should be any day now, eh?"

"Thank you, I can't wait to see it. Robbie says it's quite cosy. Poor lad couldn't handle staying with my family anymore." Hobson, with lack of anything better to do, was very interested in the details of the Clark-Maddox marriage collapse. "What will you do when you get back to Oxford?" she prodded Clark.

"Go back to work, get on with my life. What advice do you have for the single professional girl?" Clark asked of Hobson.

"Take it easy on the girl's nights out. But all the same, don't let your girlfriends fall through the cracks." Hobson looked sad as she remembered Ligeia Willard; Clark had her own reasons for looking sad.

Hobson noted Clark's expression and added, "men are tossers. I'm sorry, Lizzie. Go out, have fun, don't stay at home moping. But beware of the rebound relationship. This is the voice of experience speaking; I've made some mistakes in my life."

"You found the right one in the end though," Clark reminded Hobson.

"Even the right one can be a bit daft sometimes." Hobson sighed. Lewis entered Hobson's hospital room at that moment. "But I am glad to have him back," she winked at Clark, who grinned.

Lewis spoke. "Sorry to interrupt, ladies. But it's time that I see our Lizzie to the airport."

"Thanks, sir. Best wishes, Laura."

"Good luck, Lizzie." Hobson looked at the two of them together. "Hmm, Lewis and Clark. Does that make me Sacajawea?"

"What?" Clark asked.

"Never mind her, she's just delirious," he said to Hobson with a wink as he held the door open for Clark.

"Just don't go canoeing without me!" Hobson called after them.

* * *

On the way to the airport, Lewis had a heartfelt chat with Clark. "Thanks, Lizzie, for everything. I don't know that I would have made it these last few weeks without your support. When I was a sergeant, I had to do a lot of 'above and beyond the call of duty' tasks for Inspector Morse, but you're really the champion."

"Anything for you, sir."

"Please, Lizzie. It's Robbie now. I think we both know that my career with the police is over."

"A fine career it was, Robbie." Clark commended him.

"Look after James for me, will you?" He asked her before saying goodbye. Clark nodded, wondering if Hathaway would let her do so.

As she waited for her flight, Clark decided it was a good idea indeed to check in with her governor. She took out her phone and sent her flight information to Hathaway. He'd offered to pick her up, but she doubted that he would be able to pull himself away from the job long enough.

* * *

As it happened, Hathaway had indeed made time in his busy schedule to consider his sergeants' return. He arrived at the Trout in advance of his meeting with Tony Maddox- if Maddox decided to come at all, he reminded himself as he sipped his ale. Instead of smoking, he channeled his fidgety attention to filling in the letters on a piece of poster board with a black marker. The bubbled letters came to spiky tips. He capped his marker and shifted the poster board to the ground as he saw Tony Maddox approach.

"Inspector Hathaway," Maddox said by way of greeting. "How's Lizzie? Have you had any news from her since she left?" He had not even sat down yet.

"Before we have this discussion, Tony, can you assure me that you have Sergeant Clark's best interest at heart?" Hathaway asked. Maddox bristled at hearing his wife referred to by her maiden name.

"I do. I just want her to come home so I can talk to her. If there is anything I can do to set things right…"

Hathaway stopped him. "Let me get you a drink. Then we can talk."


	7. Healing Gestures

About a day and a half later, Lizzie Clark stretched her legs as she stepped off the plane at Heathrow airport. All she could think about was a giant coffee as she waited for her luggage. After clearing customs and immigration, she scanned the exit hall for a coffee stand. Instead, one sign among the many held by taxi drivers caught her attention. She stared bleary eyed for a moment at her husband Tony carrying a sign that read "Clark" in curved letters that came to pointy tips. He hadn't seen her yet and looked utterly forlorn. She approached him.

"Tony?"

"Lizzie." He sputtered with a lump forming in his throat. "I'm sorry. About everything."

She didn't know what to say about Tony's presence so she turned her attention to the sign. "This isn't your handiwork," she said.

"Hathaway." He replied. She nodded for she had assumed as much.

"I can only imagine how angry and betrayed you must feel. I say 'imagine' because I did. Bex told me you'd run off with another copper to New Zealand. I was out of my mind with grief that I'd lost you, horrified that I drove you to it. It wasn't until I ran into Hathaway that I learned that you'd gone away to help Robbie Lewis. You have every right to hate me for what I've done. I only hope that you'll let me drive you home and then hear me out once you've had time to rest. You must be exhausted."

Clark couldn't process all of this at once. "Tony, I just need—"

"Coffee?" He produced a hot take away mug from behind his sign. "And aspirin?" Once she took the cup he rustled through his pocket for the small container of pills.

"Well done, Tone. But you forgot-"

"There's a bag of pork scratchings in the car." She conceded a wary smile, so Tony picked up her baggage and together they headed back to Oxford.

She knew that Tony's kind gesture alone would not heal the rift between them, but it was a step in the right direction.

* * *

"Welcome home, me love." Lewis said as he escorted Hobson into their rented bungalow for the first time. She had finally been released from hospital, but this taste of freedom was just a tease as she was still quite weak. For all her pretensions of going home to pursue humanitarian goals in England, she still had a long recovery ahead of her.

"This is lovely, Robbie," she said of the cottage as he helped her into a chair.

He felt her shoulder blades and spine through her clothes as he eased her down. She had always been thin, but now she seemed to be skin and bones. Lewis resolved that he would put some meat back on her bones. "Do you want your feet up?" he asked, moving for an ottoman.

"You don't need to fuss, Robbie."

"I just want you to be comfortable," he answered, leaning down to give her a peck on the head.

"Maybe you could put the kettle on," Hobson suggested.

"Right," and off he went to the kitchen.

Hobson thought that maybe it was her extended period of febrile hallucinations or maybe her pain medication, but the situation still felt surreal to her. Robbie Lewis had given up police work, and he had come half-way across the world to take care of her. She always knew that he had a knack for dealing with people in tough situations- he was far better with empathy than she was- but she had never really experienced it firsthand.

He rose to the occasion and handled all of her doctors and nurses with the understanding of a professional. Hobson found herself wanting to explain the medical jargon associated with her condition to Lewis, but he didn't need her to- which was a good thing as she was too hazy from her ordeal and medications to process everything. For the first time in her life, she relaxed trusting someone else to be in charge.

Lewis followed up her discharge instructions with practical questions and made sure that they were ready for any eventuality. She was amazed at how careful he was to help her dress, bathe, and use the loo. She had a fleeting thought of previous boyfriends and could not imagine Alec or Franco handling her bowel situation nearly as well. Far from being two typically reserved Brits, Laura spoke with medical frankness about her bodily functions, and Lewis was always ready to balance her candor with a bit of scatological humour – a gentle barb always followed by 'pet' jus tto make her laugh.

Lewis came back into the sitting room with and handled Laura a steaming mug. "There's a tavern not far. Seems they do a fish fry; I thought I could get us some take-away for tea."

"Stay here with me, Robbie," she pleaded.

"It's just down the road; I'll be back before you know it."

"There's a storm coming; didn't you hear the report on the radio?"

"I couldn't understand a bloody thing on the radio with that accent," he said, though he had to admit the air was heavy. "But we can do the tavern another day. I think they have live music too. When you're feeling up to it we could go for a pint and have a listen."

"I'd like that, Robbie."

"I suppose I could make us egg and chips. Lizzie stocked the kitchen with some essentials before she left."

"Just a little egg for me; it sounds perfect."

Soon, the clouds burst and a torrential downpour pounded their roof. Lewis and Hobson had seen their fair share of rainy days in England, but never anything like this. Having finished their comfort food, they decided to move to the covered porch to watch the storm. Lightning crackled in the distance. "do you think we should go inside?" Hobson said.

"Nah, we're safe here. Let's enjoy the storm together." Lewis and Hobson clung to each other and shared a gentle kiss as the wind whirled the mist under their shelter. The storm raged on, but Lewis and Hobson would abide.

* * *

Author Note: Thank you for reading and especially to those who have left a review! I needed to play this scenario out in my mind, and it only seemed fitting that Lizzie accompany Robbie as her relationship was also suffering due to distance. Shameless plug: if you are looking for some holiday Robson reading, don't forget about my Morse/Scrooge mash-up:- Merry Metaphysical Misadventures, Morse. It may have escaped your attention when it was published as it appears on the Morse/Lewis crossover page and not on the Lewis main page. (And I hope that perhaps another Robson writer will regale us with a new holiday story!) Until next time, Lewis friends!


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